The Wolves of Wall Street
by Chandac
Summary: The 31 year old version of himself wanted to hit the 18 year old version of himself. He really had known nothing at that time, tact with women being one of them. Probably not as much as Arya had wanted to hit him though. It had been years, but Jon had never been able to get a hold of her.
1. The Debts We Pay

The voices in the room had started to become a monotonous blur in the background. His head was searing, welcoming a migraine. His legs had fallen asleep, having been inactive in a chair for the past two hours.

The board was furious with his decision to merge the company with Stark and Tully Co.

"Mr. Targaryen, surely you understand our concern regarding your decision. It seems that Stark and Tully Co. has much more to gain in this merger, and we have everything to lose," Tommen Baratheon argued, meekly.

There were many murmurs of agreement in the room. Jon opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

"Robb Stark will drive this company to bankruptcy, just like he drove his own family's company to bankruptcy, having taken up with that foreign whore!" Robett Glover shrieked, slamming his fist down on the table with outrage.

"Mind your tongue, Mr. Glover!" Jon broke his sedentary position pushed himself up from his chair. He looked around the room at his board members, most of their facial expressions seemed to agree with Glover's sentiments.

"Regardless of your personal opinions of Robb, you will do well to remember that he is still my cousin and my closest friend," he said pointedly to his board member.

"Now, I know that the Stark's have more to gain from this merger at firsthand, but this is still a lucrative endeavor for this company. The Stark company in their prime, controlled most of the North, a market that we've never been able to access. Once we help get the company back on its feet, we can create a monopoly in the market and bring an end to this ridiculous Bolton-Frey-Lannister alliance," Jon reasoned with his board.

Alliser Thorne frowned and rose out of his chair. "I hope you know what you're doing, boy. If this goes wrong, and we go under like the Starks did, it'll be on you."

Jon pursed his lips. "I'm not a boy and we're not going to go under, we're going to begin our reign."

Thorne didn't look convinced. "I served your father for years. I watched Rhaegar lead this company to its former glory. I also watched Rhaegar die and lose everything for the Starks."

"I'm half Stark. I'm as much a Stark as I am a Targaryen," replied Jon.

"Aye, that you are," Thorne said solemnly.

Jon sighed. The events of what had happened three decades ago still haunted the company as much as it did him.

Eventually, the board cleared out, leaving him alone with his closest friend, Sam, and his chairman, Tyrion Lannister.

"I thought they'd never leave," Tyrion quipped, grabbing three glasses and a bottle of old scotch from Jon's stand. He poured a healthy amount of scotch for Jon and Sam, and filled his own glass to entirety. Jon raised his eyebrow. Tyrion shrugged. He had never been ashamed of his functioning alcoholism.

"Cheer up, Jon. You know you're right making the right decision. Robb is your brother and family. I know you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if he lost his family's company and you did nothing to help," said Sam.

Jon took a large sip, more of a gulp, of the scotch. "The entire board hates me."

"Yes, they probably do," responded Tyrion with boredom.

Jon glared at him.

Tyrion cleared his throat. "You can't constantly make decisions by worrying about their favor. A good CEO takes risks. Is this a huge risk? Yes, there's no question about it. The Starks are bankrupt and contribute nothing to this merger. Business Insider was right to call this the least beneficial merger of 2016, but that doesn't account for the big picture. No one can deny how powerful the Starks were at one point. If Robb Stark can bring his family's company to what it once was, you'll be a hero to everyone."

"I suppose I always did want to be a hero," said Jon glumly.

He excused Tyrion and Sam from his office. He needed to talk to Robb urgently.

Robb had been too proud to ask for his help, he had too much honor. But Jon knew his cousin. Robb was terrified of losing the company that had his family's assets tied to it. After Ned's and Cat's deaths, Robb now held himself responsible for all of the Stark children.

Jon heard the line pick up.

"Robb?"

"Jon," Robb said sullenly.

"I just got permission from the board. We ran our due-diligence. Our lawyers are going to send the contracts over to your office tomorrow."

"Jon, I can't accept this. It's not right," said Robb, clearing his throat.

"Let me help you, Robb." Jon pleaded. "I owe you."

"Are you crazy, Jon? You owe me nothing," Robb refused.

"Robb, I'm here today because of your father…our father," Jon corrected himself awkwardly. "Father took me in when I had nothing. I would be nothing without him. I might not have his name, but I have his blood. I am as much a Stark as you are. Stark-Tully co. is my family's company too. This is not a loan or a bailout, what's mine is yours."

There was silence on the line. Jon had pictured his cousin smiling on his end of the line.

Robb's voice was solemn. "Father was always right. When the snows fall and the white winds blow"-

"the lone wolf dies but the pack survives," Jon finished the quote for him, smiling to himself.

"Bran told me that the wolves will come again," Robb said. "I don't know what to tell him. He's only 23, he's too young to be worrying about our family's future."

"Bran's always been smarter than all of us. He's right. The wolves will come again. We'll come for everyone who's cheated our family now. We'll show them what wolves to do to their enemies," said Jon, darkly.

Robb chuckled on the line.

"What's so funny?" asked Jon.

"Nothing… it's just that Arya said something identically along those lines to me today. She said that she would make sure that everyone knew that the Lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts and that Starks don't send their regards, they deliver them themselves," said Robb. "My baby sister, Jon…she's possibly the most ruthless of all of us."

Jon couldn't help his lips from forming a smile. Arya had always been his favorite cousin, even more than Robb. He hadn't seen her in 13 years, not since he had moved from Alaska to New York for college. How would she look now? He doubted that she still looked like a scrawny 12 year old with a bird's nest of tangles for hair.

Does she ever ask about me? Jon wanted to ask Robb, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He desperately wished to know the answer though.

Arya had been so furious that he had chosen to go to school across the country, instead of staying in Alaska the way Robb had. She had refused to speak to Jon for days.

Theon Greyjoy, their family friend, had told Jon that Arya had been harboring a secret crush on him for years. Unfortunately for both Jon and Theon, Theon had said this within earshot of Arya.

Needless to say, Arya had been humiliated and enraged. She locked herself in her room and refused to see any of her family members until Jon had left for Columbia University.

He tried for days to get her to talk to him. He had slipped a note under her door. Jon winced remembering how uncomfortable it had probably been. He said something along the lines of "Please don't be embarrassed, Arya. I'm practically your older brother. I'm not upset with you at all. Just open your door."

The 31 year old version of himself wanted to hit the 18 year old version of himself. He really had known nothing at that time, tact with women being one of them.

Probably not as much as Arya had wanted to hit him though.

It had been years, but Jon had never been able to get a hold of her.

Every time he called uncle Ned's number, Arya seemed to be inconveniently out of the house. Aunt Catelyn had always been so happy to inform him that Arya was busy with other things. Catelyn Stark had always hated him and she could hardly contain her joy that one of her children hated Jon as much as she did.

Jon had tried for years to add her on social media websites. He had tried Myspace and Facebook, but she had ignored all of his requests.

Eventually he gave up. It was clear that Arya had wanted nothing to do with him. He knew a hopeless cause when he saw it.

"Can you fly into New York by the end of this week? We can hold a joint board meeting and start preparing for optics with the media and the hearings we'll have with the SEC," Jon found himself asking Robb instead.

"Actually, I don't think I'll be coming in until the end of the month," responded Robb.

Jon held his tongue. Robb not being actively in his office and being off West with Jeyne Westerling was one of the main reasons why the Starks were in trouble in the first place.

Robb seemed to sense Jon's displeasure from his end of the phone line.

"That's not to mean that I won't send a representative from Stark-Tully Co. I need to stay here until the end of the month for Rickon. He's starting college in two weeks and he's as wild as ever, Jon. I need to make sure he's moved in properly and has gone through freshman orientation securely. The way father would have done for him," Robb said pointedly.

Jon felt ashamed. He, out of all people, shouldn't have doubted Robb's intentions. Robb was as honorable as Eddard Stark had been.

"Of course, father would have done the same thing in your position, Robb," he reassured his cousin.

"Who are you sending in your place? Uncle Benjen?" Jon asked somberly.

"Arya." Robb said airily.

Jon felt his heart stop for a second.

"…Arya? You're sending Arya?" he heard himself whisper.

Robb couldn't hear Jon's unease. "She volunteered, actually. She said that she wanted to have an active role in the company, and you know how Arya gets when she wants something. She won't take the word "no" for an answer."

 _So fierce, so willful_

"I remember perfectly well," said Jon softly.

"Arya'll be in New York by Thursday night and in your office on Friday. I told her that I would have you pick her up from the airport, but she refused. She insisted that she was a woman grown and could handle herself," Robb said exasperatedly.

Of course she did, Jon thought to himself. She still hates me.

"I trust that you'll see that she doesn't wreak havoc?" asked Robb, cutting Jon away from his brooding thoughts.

"It's Arya, how much possible havoc could she wreak?" Jon said sardonically.

Robb chuckled. "I'll have Arya send me her reports from Friday's meeting. Call me tomorrow, Jon. I'll keep you informed with what my board says about this merger tomorrow, not that I see them opposing it. I seriously can't thank you enough, Jon."

"No need to thank me," said Jon solemnly.

"Have a good night, Jon."

The phone clicked.

Jon finished his scotch. Arya Stark would be in his office in less than two days time, and she was bringing a storm with her.

Winter was coming.


	2. Inherit The Wind

Arya

Arya could still remember the horrible day that her father and mother had been murdered. She had been fifteen at the time.

Ned Stark had gone to the South to D.C. for business with his long time friend and partner Robert Baratheon. Catelyn Stark had accompanied him, leaving Robb in charge of their family affairs.

When Arya closed her eyes, she could still see Robb's face the moment he answered that phone call. The moment where his easy smile disappeared as he processed the news.

Their beloved father's had been found decapitated near a church. Their mother's body had been found decaying in a river; her throat had been slashed.

The criminal investigation behind her parents' murders had been practically a joke. Most of the country whispered that the Lannisters had killed Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark; and that Catelyn Stark had tried to flee the state before the Freys found her and mutilated her body.

Yet somehow, the FBI had concluded that there was no conclusive evidence to point towards a possible suspect or culprit behind the murders. It wasn't a shocker; Tywin Lannister had the national bureau head quarters in his pocket, with the black money he threw at them. His son, Jaime Lannister was the police commissioner. There was no chance that the Lannisters would be incriminated in the whole ordeal.

Nevertheless, the entire North had been outraged at the injustice. The Northerners had rallied behind Robb and had anointed him boy-king. The "young wolf" they called him, "the king in the north."

Robb had only been twenty at the time, far too young to inherit the responsibilities of the their father's empire. But just like in every other situation he had ever been placed in, Robb had acted bravely and nobly.

He had immediately ended the alliances that the Starks had, had with the Lannisters and Baratheons. He had blacklisted the Lannisters, Baratheons, and Freys as well.

Her brother had stolen half of the market from Tywin Lannister's nose, much to the old mogul's chagrin. It truly had seemed like Robb had become invincible. Their parents would have been so proud of him.

But Tywin Lannister, true to his reputation, had now brought an end to Robb's reign. While Robb was in London trying to get his fiancée Jeyne back, Tywin was cutting a deal with Roose Bolton, acting Chairman of Stark-Tully Co. Bolton turned on Robb and transferred almost all of the companies' securities and clients to Tywin Lannister.

Robb was now being killed the "king who lost the north." As if it was her brother's fault that his trusted partner betrayed him in his hour of need. Roose Bolton was a traitorous piece of shit.

Lannisters, Baratheons, Freys, and Boltons. Arya could make a list of their names. Each of them had Stark blood on their hands, some way or the other. Each of them would pay; she would make sure that they did.

If it were up to Arya, she would be in Virgina right now, slitting Walder Frey's throat open. But Robb had stopped her.

"We're going to get everything back. Everything that they took from us, will be ours. I promise it," her valiant brother had said.

"And exactly how are we going to do that? Everyone is laughing at us right now. They're out there saying that House Stark is dead. Did you see the New Yorker's parody of that photoshopped dead wolf's head on your body, captioned "The King in the North?" Arya had roared back at him. "We have nothing now! Nothing to climb back from."

"That's not true. There is a way out of this. Jon and I have spoken. He's offered to merge with us. . There's still hope, Arya." Robb had said, attempting to calm her down.

Arya stopped moving and froze at the mention of her estranged cousin's name. Jon… that was a name that she hadn't heard in the longest time.

She hadn't seen Jon in thirteen years, since he had left them; since he had left **her**.

Arya had been the black sheep of their family. The only sibling with a long solemn face and dark brown hair in a group of siblings who all shared their mother's coveted, regal features, and lustrous auburn hair; except for Jon.

Jon had never seemed to fit any more than she had. He had never once called her wild or annoying. He had always watched her schemes with mirth and even helped her. Arya had loved spending time with him the most. Jon had always been so snarky to the jerks at Winterfell and put them in their places.

No wonder she had fallen in love with him so hard, all those years ago. How could she have not? He had been so oblivious to it. Jon had known nothing, and she had wanted him to never find out.

But everyone else had known. It had been so bloody obvious.

When Jon had told her that he was leaving for New York for university, Arya had felt nothing but panic. He was supposed to stay in the North like Rob was. That had always been the plan. Jon would stay in the North and Arya would visit him every weekend. It had been a silly little girl's dream, but it had been her's.

But Jon hadn't given a damn about her dreams. He had already sent his decision to attend NYU and had planned on leaving Winterfell in two weeks time. Arya had fought back tears from spilling down her cheeks. Jon had probably sensed her sadness and had "generously" offered to spend as much time as possible with her in his remaining days, causing her tears to turn from sadness to fury.

She didn't need Jon's charity. Arya was a she-wolf of the North who didn't need anyone. If Jon wanted to become a lone wolf, then he was more than welcome to do so.

Arya spent days ignoring Jon's desperate pleas and attempts to talk to her, until one day when she was walking home from class, and she overheard Theon Greyjoy telling Jon her dreaded secret.

Her cousin's face had reflected pure shock. Arya had ducked behind a tree, her cheeks were burning out of sheer embarrassment. Stupid Theon made the situation worse by calling out "Oh look Jon! There's Arya Underfoot. Have you been listening the whole time?"

Arya had come out from behind the tree indignantly. "Damn you to the seven hells, Theon Greyjoy!" She had looked at Jon whose usual pale face, had then turned pink.

"I hate both of you!" she had screamed. Arya had started running away from them both, her vision blurry from the tears that were then streaming down her face.

She had heard Jon call from behind her "Arya, wait!" but she had kept running. Jon had hurt her when he was the one person who had promised to never do so.

Thankfully he had left for New York at the end of that week and she stayed in bed for days, devastated. He had slipped her a pathetic note, under her door. Jon had called her his "little sister" and that this didn't need to change anything between them. It was mortifying, really. Her only comfort had been that he had left immediately after.

To Arya's surprise, Sansa had been the one sibling she had managed to bond the most with during her period of heartbreak. Sansa and she had been day and night. Where her sister was a sunny ray of light, Arya had always felt like Darth Vader next to her.

Arya had been the inferior Stark sister, and Sansa had always managed to make her know that she was aware of it; whether it was calling her "horseface" with her best friend Jeyne Poole, or telling her that she would marry someone as stupid as Hodor.

But Sansa had managed to sense that Arya's heart was dying when Jon had left. Arya hadn't eaten in days until Sansa had come into her room several days after Jon's departure. She had climbed into bed next to Arya, handed her a carton of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and said "boys are idiots." Sansa had been nice enough to even play a horror movie, despite being terrified of them, and had sat through the whole film for Arya.

It had been nice. For the first time in her life, Arya had felt like Sansa didn't hate her. Sansa had told her to forget Jon and that hundreds of boys across the country would line up to date her.

"You're a Stark of Winterfell, Arya. You will not waste your time crying after a boy who wrote you a note as pathetic as that one," Sansa had commanded as she had combed through Arya's mess of hair.

Sansa's advice had worked. Jon stopped appearing in her thoughts less and less.

When her mother and father had died, and Jon had been missing from their funeral; Arya hadn't let her rage slip her into a pool of sadness again. If Jon didn't care enough to leave New York to come and be with his family, then Arya wouldn't care enough to miss him and dwell on his absence.

When Bran had his accident and the doctors had told them that one of their pack had almost died, and Jon still hadn't come to visit them from New York; Arya hadn't felt anything because he had left their pack a long time ago.

Jon wasn't part of the pack anymore. He had made the choice to become a dragon and had killed the wolf in him a long time ago, Arya had thought to herself. It was the mantra that she had created and she had memorized it.

And now Robb was making her desert it.

"I need you to go to New York in my stead," her older brother had told her definitely.

Arya had protested. "Why? You're the CEO of the company. No one wants to hear from me. They care about seeing Robb Stark."

Robb had shaken his head. "I have to stay here. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I can't run the risk of the Bolton's seizing Winterfell and putting you and Bran in danger, with my permanently being in New York. Besides, you said you wanted to contribute to our legacy. Sansa is in New York, representing us in High Society. Unless you want to join her, which I doubt you do; then step up and go take control of our company in the New York division.

Arya had scowled at him and had murmured some obscene curses under her breath, but she had known that her brother was right.

* * *

Arya sat in her room at Winterfell with her bags packed, restless as ever. She would be heading for New York in the morning.

She texted her baby brother telling him how much she loved him and would FaceTime him tomorrow when she landed. Arya loved all of her siblings, but Rickon was her favorite by far. He was the only one who had the same amount of the wolf's blood like her, if not more.

Rickon struggled to fit as much as she once had. He was not gentle like Bran, poised like Sansa, or charming like Robb. No, Rickon was as wild as Arya had once been and she loved him so much more for it.

She looked for Sansa's name in her phone next. She pressed the FaceTime button. The phone rang several until bright red hair and a weird face mask appeared on her screen.

"What the hell is that?!" Arya asked incredulously.

"Urghh" Sansa made a noise of displeasure, "I'm trying to minimize my pores."

"That's stupid. Your face is fine," said Arya, rolling her eyes.

"You would think so, but Aunt Lysa made sure to tell me that my pores have been looking extra large these days," Sansa grumbled.

"She's just mad that you actually look pretty and even if she goes in for her third face lift, she won't get to look like you."

Sansa laughed. "This is why I missed you. Everyone here is so uptight and boring. It's nauseauting."

"Tell me how did High Society go today?" Arya asked, smirking.

"Oh my god. I wanted to claw my eyes out. Selyse Baratheon made sure to inform me that Loras was seen checking into the Ganservort with Renly yesterday. I had to come up with a lie about how he was dropping off some fabrics from me, for Renly to sample." Sansa said with exasperation.

Arya made a face. "I mean, Sansa…your boyfriend is kind of really gay…," she said awkwardly.

Sansa gave the screen a pointed look. "Yes, Arya, for gods' sakes I know that Loras is gay. But I can't have him be so flamboyant about his affairs. Our relationship is crucial for the press to know that a house as powerful as the Tyrell's is allied with the Stark's."

Arya nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm hoping Selyse bought the lie and keep her mouth shut at the next country club meeting. I doubt it though," sulked Sansa.

Arya's stomach turned at the thought of Selyse Baratheon.

"Sansa…did she mention anything about…about Gendry?"

She hated herself for asking and for caring enough to ask. She could hear how desperate she sounded. It had been two years since Gendry and she had broken up. She had seen his Facebook page. His last post had been a photo with an older redhead named Mel from 10 months ago.

Her sister gave her a look of pity, which made her feel even worse. Arya didn't want or need anyone's pity. She just wanted to get over him.

"He's…good. From what I've heard Stannis has really taken him under his wing now. Selyse says that Stannis has written him into his will for his shares of Baratheon Industries."

Arya gulped, pushing back so many thoughts that she could never bring herself to express verbally.

"It doesn't matter, Arya. Right now you have to focus on your role at Dragonstone. Have you spoken to Jon at all?" asked Sansa, gently.

Arya shot her sister a glare. "You know that I haven't, and I don't plan on doing so until I absolutely have to."

Sansa sighed. "He's going to be your boss. You should at least be on speaking terms with him before your first day work."

"He's NOT my boss. Robb is my boss. Just because Robb has decided to ignore Jon's disloyalty, doesn't mean that I have to be complicit in this disaster," argued Arya defiantly.

"I just hope that Jon's prepared to handle you. He always was the best one at dealing with you when we were younger."

"I'd like to see him try," growled Arya.

"Anyways, I have to go to sleep now; stupid time zone. I'll pick you up at La Guardia tomorrow and we can catch up more over lunch. Please don't forget my lemon cakes!" pleaded Sansa.

Arya laughed. "I won't. Go to sleep, princess."

Sansa stuck her tongue out.

The call hung up.

Arya turned her bedroom light off and threw her back on her bed.

She would do Rob's job well in Dragonstone, but she couldn't let that get off her primary focus: vengeance.

She would have Bolton, Lannister, Baratheon, and Frey blood one way or another.

Her phone screen lit up in the darkness. A text message from Brandon Stark appeared in her notifications.

"I know you're worried and anxious for New York and Dragonstone. I know you're scared of seeing Gendry's family too. Don't worry, Arya. You'll make New York home, I promise."

Arya smiled at the text and quickly typed back. "How did you know that I'm worried? I haven't talked to anyone about it?"

She watched the typing speech bubble and finally another message from Bran appeared.

"Because it's me. I just know and sense everything, Arya lol. Sleep well, sister. I love you and have a safe flight tomorrow."

Arya smiled at her phone and texted Bran back a good night. She closed her eyes and pulled her covers up.

There would be plenty of time tomorrow to worry about boys named Gendry and Jon.

* * *

Please review :)


	3. Bend The Knee

A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews!

Thank you Lu Mach and aishiteru naru!

To errobotter- Thank you for liking the story so far! I hope that you continue following the story. I definitely understand your reservations givien that it is a modern AU.

* * *

Jon stood on the roof of Dragonstone looking ahead at his city. It was bright and morrow and he was having his morning cigarette and coffee in peace. He needed today out of all days, to go well.

The door behind him opened, to his surprise. He had told Bron to guard the door today and to not let anyone in. Now he would need to have a word with his security.

Sam came out into the roof. "Mornin', Jon," he said in his usual cheery demeanor.

Jon nodded his head at him. "Sam," he said gruffly.

The chubby man walked over towards the edge of the roof where Jon was standing.

Sam began nervously, "The Wall Street Journal had-"

"I've seen the papers already, Sam," Jon cut him off. He puffed on his cigarette butt and blew some smoke away. "I've seen all of them."

Aye, he had. The merger was on the front page of today's papers.

 **" _The King in the North's Big Bailout"_**

 **" _Who's the real King in the North? Stark or Targaryen"_**

 **" _Like father, like son?"_**

 **" _Jon the Conqueror"_**

He had cringed at all of the headlines.

"Thorne's not going to be pleased," said Sam, uneasily.

Jon scoffed darkly. "When is Thorne ever pleased," he retorted back.

"Don't you think he has a point, Jon? What if Robb Stark usurps your place-"

"Sam." Jon gave his friend a warning.

But Sam had taken no heed. "What if they remove your sigil and put their direwolf on your tower?"

"Sam," Jon said forcefully this time.

The Southerner finally took the hint and stopped rambling.

Jon stamped his foot on his cigarette butt. He reached into his blazer's pocket and pulled out his pack, taking out a brand new cigarette. One cigarette wouldn't be enough to start this stressful morning, he thought to himself as he lit the new cigarette from the fire from his match.

Fire.

Fire and Blood. Fire and Blood.

The words of the great house House Targaryen. House Targaryen, that had been nearly extinct until Jon resurrected it himself. He had taken back his birthright, Dragonstone and built the company back by himself.

A Targaryen all alone in the world is a terrible thing, Aemon Targaryen had once said before he died. Gods hadn't he been right?

Jon would have given anything to ask for Uncle Aemon's advice on the merger.

"Kill the boy and let the man be born, Jon," Aemon had once advised him.

The man had embraced the fire in him.

But the boy…the boy owed Eddard Stark his life. Eddard Stark had fostered him and raised him as his own, despite the scandal that surrounded his conception. He'd given him a family; Robb, Sansa, Arya, Brandon, and Rickon.

Was he meant to kill everything the man had earned? To risk House Targaryen's future?

The future that only existed because he had fought tooth and nail to bring it back?

"You are the last dragon," a voice whispered in his head. "Should you fall, House Targaryen will be dead. Not a single person who shares your blood is alive to support you."

But he wasn't alone. He had a family: cousins who shared his blood. Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon. And if he didn't help them after everything that Ned Stark had done for him. Then what was the point of the man's sacrifice?

"She's here you know? Your cousin. All unpacked in her office. I saw her, myself."

Sam's voice dragged Jon out from his pensive thoughts.

The smell of ashes filled his nose.

"Do you want a draw?" he offered to Sam. Sam shook his head.

He threw the remainder of the cigarette down and stamped on his foot.

"Have Satin push back my doctor's appointment for the afternoon. I have business that I need to tend to," he told Sam.

Jon walked to the door and pulled it. He started walking past Bron.

"You let Sam through the door."

"I did."

"I told you, I didn't want to be disturbed by anyone this morning."

"And I wish that I had gotten to fuck Margaery Tyrell this morning, but you don't see me complaining about it, do you," said his guard snarkily.

Jon pushed the elevator door button.

"Have you taken a look at your cousin yet?" Bron asked him, simpering.

The doors opened and Jon quickly stepped inwards.

"No, I was making my way to her now," he said sullenly.

"She's quite the looker, I'll tell you. Better looking than her sister, if you ask me," Bron said nonchalantly.

Jon glowered at him.

"What?" Bron said innocently.

"Don't talk about my cousins like that," Jon said roughly.

"What's gotten you extra broody this morning?" Bron inquired.

The elevator door open and Jon quickly walked out.

One of the secretaries began approaching him with a stack of forms.

"Mr. Targaryen, could you just sign these papers?" she asked, holding out a pen towards Jon.

"Now's not a good time, Meera. If you leave the papers at Satin's desk, he'll be sure to get them to me by the end of the day," Jon said, without stopping.

"There's some place I need to be first."

He finally made it to the end of the hallway where her new office was located. Her door read "Arya Stark. Managing Partner of Stark-Tully Co."

Jon paused and stood outside her door.

He heard Bron sigh from behind him. "For fuck's sake," the guard said. He leaned forward and knocked on the door twice.

"Come in," a familiar voice said.

Jon pushed the door open carefully.

His eyes locked with hers stormy gray ones. For the first time in his life, he understood how others probably felt when they looked into his eyes.

Her eyes were as cold and gray as his were.

Arya Stark had finally arrived.

* * *

Arya looked nothing like the twelve year old girl he had last seen. She had a grown a good two heads taller. Her hair looked combed through; was thick and curly, and fell long past her shoulders and stopped at her mid-back. Her face didn't have dirt on it and had lost all of the baby fat that it had once had. Her eyebrows were thick and her skin was as pale as his own. She was pure Stark in looks; the only Tully features she had inherited was her jaw structure and defined cheekbones. She looked like a true Northern woman now.

Jon wasn't sure if he had seen a sight as lovely as her in the past couple of months. Ned Stark would have been so proud of her.

"Are you just going to stand there staring at me all day?" She asked in a savage tone.

Jon shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't realized that he had been staring for so long.

"Don't worry, girl. Trust me, he does this to everyone he meets," he heard Bron say derisively from behind him.

Jon sent a Bron a glare. The guard really didn't know when to ever shut up.

Arya cocked an eyebrow at his guard. "And you are?" she asked without enthusiasm.

"Bron of the Blackwater, ma'am," Bron answered her.

"Pleasure," Arya said coolly, "and don't call me ma'am."

Bron gave Jon a look.

Jon cleared his throat, hoping to bring an end to this uncomfortable and unfortunate exchange; though he didn't have high expectations.

"I take it that you've settled in? Was your office space suitable to your requirements?" he asked his cousin.

"It's acceptable," Arya said icily.

Jon raised an eyebrow at her. "Acceptable?" he asked her. "Is there anything that you need to add to it…?"

"I said that it's acceptable," Arya said stubbornly.

Finally, there was the cousin he had known all those years back. The stubborn girl who would never yield to anything she didn't want to do.

It's good to see you again, sweet cousin, he thought to himself. I'm glad that I still recognize some part of you.

"Okay, well let Ollie know if there's anything that you need. I wanted to introduce you to Tyrion, my CFO. I don't believe that the two of you have been acquainted yet, and I want to get that out of the way before we meet with the board," Jon versed to her.

Arya furrowed her brows at the mention of his CFO's name. "Tyrion Lannister?" she inquired angrily. "You hired a Lannister to work for you?"

Jon understood Arya's vexation. "He's different from all of them. He's been alienated from the Lannisters for years. He probably despises them more than you do. Tyrion's always been the black sheep of his family, as you can see I'm more than a bit sympathetic to his cause," he reassured her.

"Although he does shit as much as gold as the rest of them fucking Lannisters do," Bron chimed in.

Arya glanced at Bron, her lips pursed, and looked back at Jon.

"Does he ever stop?" she asked Jon, gesturing her head at Bron.

Jon shook his head in exasperation. "Believe me, I've been trying for years. I wish I could say that you get used to it, but you really don't," he said apologetically.

Bron shrugged his shoulders, completely unfazed. "You can blame Tyrion, if you'd like to. I've been in his service for years and that's how your pretty cousin here came across me."

If Arya was amused by Bron's calling Jon pretty, she did a good job of not showing it.

She took her long legs off the chair and placed them on the floor, moving herself off of her desk. She flipped some of the hair that was in front of her blouse over her shoulder, and started walking towards where Jon and Bron were standing.

She stopped two feet in front of Jon.

"Well I guess I have no choice but to meet this legendary Tyrion Lannister. Let's hope he lives up to what everyone whispers about him. I'm tired of the bland selection of company that I've had so far this morning and could use some entertainment," she said coldly to him.

Jon felt his throat go dry. As harsh as the winds of winter, he thought to himself.

"After you, my lady," he offered, opening the door and gesturing the entrance at her.

Arya walked past him, her head held high and her heels click on the floor.

Jon was positive he heard her mutter willfully, "not your lady."

He couldn't have tried harder to hide his smirk.

Bron stopped at the office door that was shut close. He looked at Arya and smiled. "Here's hoping you get that entertainment that we failed to give you, Ms. Stark." He said as he pushed the door open and walked into the office, Arya and Jon following behind him.

Jon instantly regretted his decision of wanting to bring Arya to his CFO's office. He should have known that it would be a terrible idea.

Tyrion was standing behind his desk. On his desk was a very naked woman, behind him was another naked woman who had her feet tied to the desk, both of whom Jon recognized as some of Tyrion's call girls

The brunette was on the table, lying flat on her stomach while the Lannister snorted cocaine off her derriere.

He looked up, in shock at the intruders in his office. "I would say that I'm sorry, but this is my office and you entered at your own discretion," the golden-haired man drawled, licking his fingers and patting white powder off his suit.

"Tyrion! For the love of the gods, clean yourself up! What would Arya think of us?" Jon roared. He turned to look at his cousin. A highborn lady like her probably had never been exposed to whores and drugs.

Arya's gray eyes had brightened up and she was grinning. "I haven't been near whores and this much coke since college. You know how to have a good time, Tyrion Lannister," she said. "No offense," she instantly said to the two call girls, awkwardly.

"None taken" one of them answered back.

Jon was a couple of steps away from going into cardiac arrest. He didn't want to know why Arya was ever near the company of whores or cocaine. A girl of her birth should have been shielded from such obscenities.

Tyrion smirked. "I like you," he said pointing his finger at her. "I believe we haven't formally met before. He walked over from his desk towards Arya. "It's a pleasure to finally put a face to the name, Ms. Stark," he said as he held out to Arya.

"Likewise," said Arya as she shook his hand.

"I'm sorry to hear about what the Boltons did to your brother. Roose Bolton has always been a nasty man. It's a pity that your brother had to deal with him for as long as he did," Tyrion said.

Arya seemed unfazed by his condolences.

"Don't tell me that you're sorry, tell me you'll help me pay the debt the way you Lannisters are so famously known for," Arya said forcefully.

Tyrion's face hardened. "You know that my father orchestrated Bolton's betrayal?"

Arya nodded her head. "I do. Is that going to be a problem, Mr. Lannister? Asking you to help me bring down the man who took everything from my family?" she said defiantly.

Tyrion gave her a pointed look. "I share your hatred for my father. Believe me, I do, Ms. Stark. But Tywin Lannister didn't get to where he is, by being stupid. He's the smartest man in the country, if not the world. He's always twenty steps ahead of everyone. Don't you see, Ms. Stark? My father can't be killed."

"No, Mr. Lannister." Arya shook her head, her face grim. "Anyone can be killed."

Jon sucked his breath in. No one in the room had spoken. Arya had managed to shut up even Bron.

"I think it's best if we all go to the conference room. We have fifteen minutes before our meeting starts," Tyrion said, not breaking his gaze from Arya.

Arya walked out of the room first. Jon started to follow her out but Tyrion grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"What the hell was that? You told me that she was just a child. That woman is as ruthless and cold as my lord father is," Tyrion whispered angrily.

Jon broke his arm out of Tyrion's grasp. "She was when I had last seen her. Trust me, I wasn't expecting this version of her or I would have asked Robb to send Bran instead," he whispered back crossly to his friend.

"Well do something about it, because that girl is currently screaming trouble for you," Tyrion refuted indignantly, before stomping away from him.

Jon sighed and rubbed his fingers on his forehead. So much for that bloody cigarette.

How much trouble could Arya Stark possibly wreak? He had asked Robb the other day.

She seemed to be hellbent on giving Jon his answer.

* * *

Jon had never been in a board meeting as unpleasant as the one he was currently sitting in. The board members seemed to be having a difficult time warming up to Arya, who was seated next to him and making a point of not speaking to him.

At one point during the meeting he had leaned back on his chair and Arya had turned to scowl at him for the squeak that the chair emitted.

He hadn't been able to win with her all day long.

Jon was positive that he could drink from his water bottle and she would find a way to be irritated about it.

"The Arryns have decided to trade some of their shares towards the company, sir. I've contacted the Northern office, Brandon Stark told me that he had notified Robb Stark of the news. Mr. Stark said that he would leave the decision up to you out of respect for your goodwill, for which division will get control of the Arryn shares," drawled Peter Baelish.

Arya nearly shot up out of her chair at the mention of Bran's name.

"Actually Mr. Baelish, I think I can speak on my brother's behalf when I say that the Arryn shares should be transferred to Stark-Tully Co," Arya asserted.

"With all due respect, Ms. Stark but if Mr. Targaryen wanted his little sister to speak on his behalf, then would be no reason for him to be sitting here wasting his time," Baelish said icily.

Jon wished Baelish hadn't said that. Didn't anyone ever tell Baelish that poking an iraate wolf was a death wish?

"With all due respect, Mr. Baelish, Jon isn't a Stark and I'm not his little sister, as much as he might like to think so. I was referring to my older brother, Robb," Arya said in a scathing tone.

Jon watched as Tyrion and Varys exchanged incredulous looks at one another at Arya's gall.

She had confirmed his suspicions. Jon had known that his stupid letter had upset her so many years ago but he had figured that her rage would have simmered over the past decade.

But Arya was ice. Ice was unforgiving and unyielding. Ice was vengeful.

She had gone far enough to declare that he wasn't a Stark. Catelyn Tully would have rejoiced at her words.

"Your brother has already voiced away his rights, and wants Mr. Targaryen to make the decision in his stead," Baelish said.

"I represent Stark-Tully Co. in the New York division, not Robb. I say that the Arryn shares be transferred to the Northern division. Jon Arryn fostered my father, and loved him like his own son. He would want my father's son to control his shares," Arya said coldly.

"If I may, Ms. Stark, one might say that your father fostered Mr. Targaryen the exact same way that Jon Arryn once fostered Ned Stark," quipped Varys.

"Enough of this already!" Jon was done with listening to this back and forth. "Peter, call the Northern division, tell Robb that I've made my mind. The Arryn shares will be transferred to the New York division. End of discussion."

"Certainly, Mr. Targaryen. I'll make the call as soon as possible," Baelish said dutifully.

"No! Not end of discussion! You can't just make this decision when I represent Stark-Tully Co. here, not Robb!" Arya argued.

Her outburst was making his board members uncomfortable.

"I can and I just did," Jon said stoically. He was not going to let Arya cause a scene in front of his whole board.

"I don't know who you think-"

Jon didn't let her finish. "Everyone out! Right now! This meeting's been dismissed. All of you can leave, except Arya. You stay."

There was only so much a man could take, and he was finally done.

* * *

Jon waited until everyone had vacated the conference room before he slammed the door and locked it.

"What the hell is your problem, Jon?! You can't just kick people out of board meeting to talk to me. That is embarrassing!" Arya shrieked at him, her pale face was turning redder by the minute.

Arya had awoken the dragon in him. Jon could only see red now.

"My problem? You're asking me what my problem is! As if you weren't the one who marched into the building today with an attitude!" Jon screamed at her.

"You have an axe to grind with me, Arya, that much you've made clear. But I refuse to let you disrespect me in front of my board of directors. MY board."

"They're not just YOUR board. You and Robb signed a deal together. That board currently belongs to Stark-Tully Co. just as much as it belongs to you!" Arya howled back at him.

Jon laughed condescendingly. "No, that board belongs to me and Robb! Until you become the CEO of Stark-Tully Co., you will sit in board meetings and exercise proper decorum unless I say otherwise!"

Arya's gray eyes, so like his own, flashed with rage. "Watch it, Jon. I don't work for you! You can't tell me what to do."

Jon stepped closer towards her, encroaching on her body space. She put her arms behind her on the table for support as she held her head haughtily and proud. In that moment she resembled Catelyn Tully so much that Jon almost felt his stomach flip in disgust.

"I can do whatever in the seven hells that I want to do, dear cousin." He sneered. "I'm not Ned Stark; I won't indulge your every whim. You will do as I say. That's not a request from me, that's a command."

Arya curled her lip in anger. Jon could feel her palpable hatred from the close distance.

"I don't take commands from you, Jon. You're not my boss, Robb is. You can try all you want to, but you'll never get to order me around." Arya growled as she crossed her arms feistily.

Jon smirked. He had almost forgotten how infuriatingly stubborn she could be.

"Disobey me, I dare you to; and I will have you on a red-eye back to the North in a second and you can explain to Robb how you managed to ruin the best deal his company has ever gotten. As far as I'm concerned, Arya, I am your boss; whether you like it or not, you will not fight me on this. You will bend the knee to me or else."

Arya glared daggers at him. Jon knew that she didn't have anything to say to him; Robb would have her head if she went back to the North.

Jon began walking towards the door and unlocked it. He turned around to look at Arya again, who was still scowling at him contemptuously.

"Cheer up, cousin. I wouldn't want your face to be permanently set to a glare. It's far too pretty for it."

He slammed the door shut, laughing at the sound of her strangled groan of outrage.

Jon was going to have to so much fun with her.

* * *

Please review :) See you guys at the next update!


	4. The Blood of The Dragon

**Chapter 4: The Blood of the Dragon**

A/N: I apologize for the formatting of this chapter. For some reason my laptop has created large spaces in between lines. It's driving me crazy and I'll hopefully have the issue sorted out of for the next chapter.

* * *

 **Arya**

Robb had been insufferable for the past week. He had texted her immediately after the abysmal board meeting, furiously.

" _Why did I just get news that you caused a scene in that meeting? Did you really have the audacity to scream at Jon in front of his entire board?"_

Arya had instantly replied. _"What did Jon already snitch to you? Guess it didn't take him that long."_

" _No, Varys was the one to tell me; which makes it worse. Jon has too much respect for you to tell me about your disrespect, god knows why."_

" _Jon is helping our family, whether you can see that past your petty vendetta against him. How dare you challenge his authority in front of his damn board?! How dare you challenge my authority! I gave Jon the right to do however, he damn well would want to please with those Arryn shares."_

" _Is this just some sort of a game to you? I wanted to give you the chance to make something of yourself and not screw this up, like you had in Braavos."_

" _When in seven hells are you going to grow up, Arya? You're starting to make me regret thinking that you had were ready for this job. I was going to name you the company's vice president, but I'm naming Bran instead."_

" _I swear to the old gods and the new, if I get one more complaint from anyone else about your attitude. I will go down there myself, bring you back to Winterfell, and marry you off to a Martell or Tyrell, the first chance I get."_

" _Get your shit together, or else you won't be representing my company."_

Arya had ignored his messages. She knew better than to message Robb back when he was seething. Robb's temper was notorious.

Any reply that she would have sent back, could have triggered Robb taking her back to Winterfell.

Still, it hurt that Robb only saw her as the troublesome, wild, sister who had wreaked havoc in Braavos all those years back. His obvious favoritism towards Sansa and Bran stung. Sometimes it felt as if she only had Rickon.

Rickon never judged her for anything she had done in the past. He never cared about how much blood she had gotten on her hands once, and how much more she still craved for.

Rickon understood her thirst for revenge and matched her with his own. He wanted to kill everyone who had dared to take away the mother and father he had barely known.

Rickon knew what it meant to be a wild wolf. He knew what it meant to be done with wooden teeth.

At least someone loved her for herself, and not out of familial obligation.

* * *

Sansa had already ordered them two peach iced teas and two sandwiches by the time Arya met her during her lunch break.

Arya took a sip of her tea and instantly made a face of displeasure. "Oh god, couldn't you have gotten the mango flavored tea?" she complained.

Sansa shrugged. "They only had peach and raspberry tea, and we all know how you feel about raspberry tea," she said as she opened two sugar packets and stirred them into her tea. "How's your day going?" she asked, sipping through her straw.

Arya leaned back into her chair. "Robb's been driving me insane. He won't stop blowing up my phone about this stupid Jon and the House Arryn situation. He's getting mad regardless of whether or not I respond to his messages. It's just so annoying because I feel like he thinks that this is turning into another Braavos situation, and it's like he still doesn't trust me for something I did seven years ago," she said with exasperation.

Sansa looked with her with an expression of pity, which made Arya want to scowl.

Arya sighed. "What? I can tell that you're holding your tongue back. Just say whatever you want to say." She bit into her sandwich disgruntledly.

"I mean I won't say that you're wrong. I know Robb does have trust issues with you, but he's also giving you a huge responsibility here. He could have sent Bran in your place, but he chose you. He clearly doesn't only see you as the messed-up wild child in Braavos," reasoned Sansa.

Arya frowned at her sister. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she scoffed, drinking some more tea.

"I'm just saying that maybe you should try to see things from Robb's perspective. He's under a tremendous amount of stress, now more than ever. He can't afford to lose any more battles, now more than ever. He's signed our company over to someone he doesn't trust-"

"You think Robb doesn't trust Jon?" Arya asked incredulously, cutting Sansa off.

"How could he possibly trust Jon, after everything our family has been through with the Targaryens," Sansa said sourly, not even attempting to hide her displeasure.

"I don't know. Out of all of us, Robb is the only one who maintained his closeness with Jon. I think what you mean to say is that you don't trust, Jon," Arya pointed out.

"With good reason, Arya. Jon is the blood of the Dragon, the blood of Aegon the conqueror runs through his veins. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. He probably signed over the contracts, just so that he can make his stake for Winterfell soon," Sansa said bitterly, putting Arya at unease.

Arya put her sandwich down, having lost her appetite.

"You sound a lot like mother, right about now. Soon you'll be talking about how Jon was born a bastard, a product of lust and sin."

Sansa's piercing blue eyes flashed icily; her resemblance to their lady mother was uncanny at that moment. "It wouldn't be incorrect. Rhaegar Targaryen raped our aunt and look at how well that turned out for everyone. Jon left us the second he had a chance to, and look at how quickly he claimed his Targaryen roots."

Arya couldn't help but wonder about her aunt Lyanna. Father had never talked about her if he could have helped it. All Arya had ever known about her aunt from father, was that Arya bore a resemblance to her and loved the same things as her.

"You have a wildness in you, child. The wolf blood, my father used to call it. Lyanna had a touch of it," her lord father had once told her.

Had Lyanna run away or had Rhaegar Targaryen carried off on his shoulder forcefully and headed South? Arya had always thought to herself.

It always bothered her, all those years growing up in Winterfell, to watch anyone torment Jon for his birth status. Jon had always silently taken the taunts thrown at him but it had always bothered Arya to her core. How could anyone have blamed Jon, an innocent babe, for his conception?

The whispers hadn't changed when Jon had finally managed to make a name for himself, instead of being the bastard of Winterfell. People no longer dared to disrespect him. No, they only feared him now.

Some now whispered "the white wolf" at him; Others "the black dragon." Some took it a step farther than Sansa had, calling him "Aegon reborn."

Arya prayed that Jon had some of the Stark blood, the blood of the First Men, left in him.

If he truly was all Targaryen, then all the Starks certainly had something to fear.

If Jon was all Targaryen, then it would only be a matter of time before he decided to take Winterfell like Aegon would have.

With fire and blood.

* * *

Arya waited patiently in Jon's office. Ollie had texted her saying that Jon had requested a meeting with her for when she would return from lunch.

He was already five minutes late. Arya made herself comfortable in the leather couch chair that faced Jon's office desk.

She couldn't help herself from skimming some of the photos behind his desk's mantle.

There was a picture of him and Sam together on their college graduation day. Jon's youth was visible in the photo, although his usual melancholy was as well.

There was another picture of Jon with his mentor, Jorah Mormont, the previous police commissioner of the city. Jon had served at the force for a couple of years after graduating from university.

Arya smiled sadly as her eyes came across a photo of Jon and Robb together. Somehow, their friendship had managed to survive through everything horrible that had happened over the years. She could only hope that Jon wouldn't betray Rob's trust now.

The office door came swinging open. Arya turned to the side, startled at the sudden intrusion. Jon strolled into the office, his mouth full, a small portion of a bagel remaining in his hands.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be late. There was a hold up in the meeting with the Arryns," he apologized.

Arya nodded. "It's only been six minutes. I'll live," she said understandingly.

Jon smiled at her.

"So you called this meeting," she said dryly.

"Aye, I wanted to ask about how the proceedings with the Greyjoys were going."

"Balon Greyjoy is refusing to open Pyke for our exports."

Jon's smile quickly disappeared. His face hardened at the news of the Iron tycoon's defiance.

"What reason did he give," asked Jon, grimly.

"He said that House Stark is weak and doesn't have anything to offer him. He's not interested in opening his gates and get nothing in return," Arya said angrily.

"That bloody pillaging son-of-a-bitc-"

Jon's office phone line began ringing cutting off his furious rant.

He hit the speaker button and put his hands on his chair, standing up.

"Jon, I have Robb Stark on the line for you. He says it's a matter of the utmost importance."

Arya's attention had now peaked. She wondered what was so important had happened to Robb where he hadn't contacted her about it first.

"Put him through, Ollie," Jon commanded. "Robb," he greeted her brother when the line connected.

"Jon, I've got urgent news from the Riverlands. My uncle Edmure tells me that the Lannisters have cornered Riverrun with their forces, and are trying to hold the castle under siege," said Robb breathlessly.

Arya jumped out of her chair. Jon's eyes had widened in shock and locked with her's.

"How long have the Lannisters been there for? What are their terms? What's Edmure's plan?" he asked, tightening his grip on the chair.

"Edmure said it started about an hour ago. Jaime Lannister arrived with about 10,000 men and started demanding that my uncle Bryden let down the bridge. He claimed that the castle belonged to Walder Frey's, and his for taking," spat Robb angrily.

Arya's blood boiled. How dare the Freys send the Lannisters to carry out their siege of Rivverrun. Riverrun was Uncle Brynden's and Uncle Edmure's. It had been the ancestral seat of House Tully for hundreds of years.

"Robb, I know what you're thinking, but you can't. You can't afford to send 10,000 northerners down to fight for the Tully's," Jon argued somberly.

"You would have me sit here and watch the Lannisters root my family out of their home? My mother's home?!" Robb shouted.

"Don't you see that this is exactly what Tywin Lannister wants? He means for you to leave Winterfell and use your absence to his advantage," argued Jon.

"I don't care. I'm not going to sit back and ignore my mother's house's words! Family comes first, before duty or honor," retorted Robb.

Jon sighed. "I'm not telling you to sit back," he reasoned. "I'll make the call and have Sam send 20,000 men down from Dragonstone to Riverrun. I'm not going to watch you lose the North to Tywin Lannister's manipulation."

Arya couldn't believe her ears. Jon had absolutely no obligation to send his men to Riverrun to House Tully, especially when the Tully's had always treated him so despicably. She couldn't believe that Jon was willing to do so much for Robb.

"I've got news from the Stormlands as well. Stannis Baratheon has left with his fleet and reports say that he's heading for Dragonstone," Robb said carefully.

Jon looked puzzled. "Do you know why Stannis would possibly want to meet with me?" he asked Robb.

"Look Jon, is Arya nearby? I would rather she not hear about this." Robb said warily.

"You're on speaker," Jon replied.

"Whatever you say to Jon, you can say to me. Especially if it concerns the Baratheons," Arya demanded. Jon looked confused at her pointed mention of the Baratheons.

Robb paused on the phone for a brief couple of seconds before he carefully said, "If my reports are correct, then Gendry Baratheon is accompanying Stannis to Dragonstone."

With just those words, Arya's heart jumped to her throat.

"I don't understand, Robb. Why does it matter if Stannis brings his nephew with him?" Jon's perplexity was unwavering.

"Because Arya hasn't seen Gendry Baratheon ever since he ended their engagement two years ago," Robb's reply came in.

Jon's facial expression changed from perplexity to rage. His knuckles were now white and clenching his chair.

"Robb, I'm going to have to call you back. I want to have a talk with Arya and why she was planning on marrying the son of the man, who murdered my father," he said definitely, reaching over and ending the call. The expression on Jon's face was murderous.

If looks could kill, Arya was now a dead woman.

* * *

new chapter, new chapter!

Some quick notes:

I started struggling with the geography of the great houses and how they would fit into the map. Since this is a modern au, I'm having the continent of Westeros be all of North America.

The Starks will rule the North (Alaska, Minnesota, and all of Canada). The Greyjoys will rule all of the New England states due to their maritime expertise. The Arryns will rule all of the Midwestern states. The Lannisters will rule all of the Western states (California, Nevada, Utah, Oregon). The Tullys will rule the Mid Atlantic states. The Baratheons will rule the Southern states. The Martells will rule (New Mexico, Arizona, and all of Mexico).The Targaryen(s) will rule Dragonstone (New York City), as their ancestral seat. King's Landing is currently in D.C. The Red Keep is the White House.

Politically, there is a monarchy, not a democracy, in the story. The Starks have broken the North away from the crown. Joffrey Baratheon is the current king.

If you guys have any questions, feel free to ask.

Thank you all for your lovely reviews in the last chapter!

Please comment/ review :)


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